


Don't You Dare Speak

by withthepilot



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-29
Updated: 2010-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-14 05:17:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/145776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withthepilot/pseuds/withthepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things fall apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't You Dare Speak

Zoe claims the bread basket for her side of the table at dinner, giggling as she pulls it from Chris' grasp. He pouts and stretches across the table to grab a roll.

"You're being rude," Zach mutters. Chris' mouth twitches and he sips his wine, speaking out of the corner of his mouth.

" _You're_ rude."

"That's a terribly brilliant comeback." Zach fusses with the napkin in his lap, looking everywhere but at Chris. His voice remains low enough for no one else to hear. "Just be quiet, for once. You're like a drunken golden retriever." He doesn't realize Chris has gotten to his feet until his voice is all he can hear, booming across the table.

"Excuse me, everyone! I'm off to find a fire hydrant to piss on!" he announces. And then he's gone and Zach offers everyone quick apologies, following behind him. Now _he_ feels like the dog, running after its master; he wonders just how Chris did that.

The stall's door isn't locked, so he slips in and looks down at his lover, sitting on the bowl and smoking a cigarette. His pants are still up.

"Do you even love me?" Chris asks him, completely matter-of-fact. He silently offers Zach the smoke and he takes it, locking the door behind him.

"I don't like you when you're like this."

"This," Chris repeats. He stands and gestures to himself, his rumpled suit jacket and half-tucked dress shirt. "This? This is _me_."

"It's not you." Zach sucks from the filter, unable to look at this version of Chris—the lightweight who tells everyone how _totally awesome_ they are after three beers, laughs too loud at jokes, touches strangers on their shoulders and elbows and thinks it's okay; the frat boy, desperate for approval. "I _know_ you and this is not you."

"You used to like me," Chris mutters. "You used to laugh, too."

They go back to the table together and Zach meticulously cleans his eyeglasses, taking care not to glance at the now near-silent man beside him. He doesn't have to look up to know Zoe's stare is disapproving.

Later, he'll slide his hands along the curves he knows so well and say he's sorry, that he loves every version and facet of Chris, every square inch of solid muscle, every burst of manic (and secretly comforting) laughter. And Chris will forgive him because all he wants is approval, even from a man so quick to give in to his flaws.


End file.
